


Coming Clean

by BecsX



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Denial, Humor, M/M, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecsX/pseuds/BecsX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the time it had seemed like a rather long way off, his birthday. It was months away. He still had plenty of time for Morgana to be distracted by something shiny and let him wallow in his pining quite happily. No, not pining. Princes don’t pine. He was wallowing in his very manly admiration. And he wasn’t wallowing. He was... doing something that wasn’t wallowing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Coming Clean  
> Pairing(s) Merlin/Arthur  
> Word Count: 2,342  
> Rating: R (mentions of sexy times)  
> Warnings: Mentions of sex (Warning or encouragement?)  
> Spoilers: None  
> Summary: At the time it had seemed like a rather long way off, his birthday. It was months away. He still had plenty of time for Morgana to be distracted by something shiny and let him wallow in his pining quite happily. No, not pining. Princes don’t pine. He was wallowing in his very manly admiration. And he wasn’t wallowing. He was... doing something that wasn’t wallowing.  
> A/N: Not too sure where this came from... Lets just say I couldn't sleep and this is what happened

It was his birthday and, rather than enjoying himself, Arthur had spent half the night (okay, all of the night thus far) drumming up some much needed courage so that he could go through with what he had promised himself. And by drumming up courage, Arthur meant drinking himself into a confident and happy daze. And by promising himself, he meant staving off Morgana’s veiled threats.

You see, Arthur had made a monumental mistake a couple of months previous and, after too much wine and not enough attention from Merl- uh, somebody who was entirely unimportant to Arthur anyway, he vaguely remembered a slurred conversation with Morgana in which Arthur had confessed to something rather unfortunate.  
Unfortunate that Morgana had an annoyingly good memory when drunk (or, was he the drunken one?) And unfortunate that, through the throbbing hangover, Arthur had been reminded of his confession and had somehow agreed that it was time he came clean. He still wasn’t sure how that had happened. He suspected sorcery. Either that or sheer manipulation.

At the time it had seemed like a rather long way off, his birthday. It was months away. He still had plenty of time for Morgana to be distracted by something shiny and let him wallow in his pining quite happily. No, not pining. Princes don’t pine. He was wallowing in his very manly admiration. And he wasn’t wallowing. He was... doing something that wasn’t wallowing.  
He was perfectly happy silently yearning for Merlin, thank you Morgana. He didn’t see the problem in keeping these feelings to himself. He was quite content in his new favourite activity of covertly staring at Merlin as he completed his tasks, and really, if Arthur had started to give him chores that meant he would have to stay in close proximity, it was a pure coincidence.  
He didn’t see why confessing would be good for him- it would make watching Merlin incredibly difficult for a start- Merlin might be entirely useless at everything, but Arthur didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. And, if he knew of Arthur’s feelings everything would just be an awkward mess of unrequited feelings and far less physical contact than Arthur felt that he could live with.  
But, as Morgana had very helpfully kept his words very clearly in her mind and felt the need to prod at Arthur on an almost daily basis (“Yes, I remember. Stop going on about it- Nothing Merlin. I need more wine. Not in my lap, in my goblet, you imbecile”) he had no choice but to come clean and deal with Merlin’s uncomfortable steps away and averted looks as they came. Broken heart aside, obviously.  
Besides, it would be better coming from him rather than Morgana because Arthur doubted that she would paint him in a very favourable light if it were to come to that.

So, here he was, nearing the end of his birthday celebration where the elder members of the court had retired to their beds, the servants had begun to mingle with the nobles and most of the Knights had their hands up giggling girls skirts, and he had yet to confess.  
Morgana chose that very moment to sidle up to him “Told him yet?” she asked very loudly.  
“Hush! No, not yet.”  
“You don’t have long, Arthur. This celebration is coming to an end and by the looks of it, you have competition.” She nodded to the far corner of the room where he knew Merlin had been leaning against the wall, smiling and carefree. His gaze slid back to his servant and all but growled at the sight; Merlin and Lancelot were practically hanging off of one another like perverted limpets giggling like children. It was the ‘courage’ that made his lip curl he was sure. First of all, Lancelot ought to be conducting himself in a far more appropriate manner- what would Gwen say to see her beloved draped over another man? And second, Merlin should be perverted with Arthur.  
Lancelot leaned yet closer to Merlin, whispered something right into Merlin’s ear, the shamless harlot, and Merlin threw his head back in a loud laugh. Arthur growled.  
“Quite.” Morgana said, smiling smugly. “Tell him now, or I’ll go over there and tell him.”  
“It’s not the end of the cele-”  
“Now, Arthur.”  
She pushed him. Pushed him, the Crowned Prince of Camelot. He was sure that was some sort of treason. But no matter, he would have her executed at sunrise. Right now his feet, traitors that they were, seemed to agree with Morgana and were leading him rather quickly to the corner that housed his manservant and Knight.  
“Arthur” Merlin grinned as he approached pushing himself away from the wall (and Lancelot, Arthur noticed with a sense of satisfaction) and towards Arthur.  
“Merlin” Arthur returned in what he was sure was a very calm and collected response suitable for greeting his manservant.  
“My Lord,” Lancelot bowed “Have you enjoyed your evening?”  
“Yes, thank you. Come with me, Merlin.” He took him by the arm and tugged gently, or rather, he assumed it had been gently. Merlin, being as heavy as a moth, tumbled into Arthur’s chest bodily. Arthur didn’t mind much.  
“What? I’m talking to Lancelot. You gave me the night off; you can’t just demand I come with you.”  
“I just did. Excuse us Lancelot. I believe Guinevere is looking for you” he couldn’t help the lie- Lancelot should remember himself and not chase after Arthur’s servant, after all.  
“Gwen is not looking for him; she went to bed hours ago.” Merlin muttered and attempted to wrench his arm from Arthur’s grasp “I’m coming with you, you can let me go now, prat.” Arthur’s hand slid down Merlin’s arm and clasped his wrist instead. His hand attempted to betray him and continue down to Merlin’s hand, intent on wrapping itself around Merlin’s long, graceful fingers but Arthur had rather more control of his body than that. Most of the time, traitorous feet notwithstanding. And, come to think of it, it had been his body that had first alerted him to his growing feelings for the idiot in increasingly inconvenient and embarrassing situations.  
It simply was not acceptable for one to become aroused during a meeting about grain stores simply because Merlin had dropped Arthur’s spare quill and bent down to retrieve it in possibly the sultriest way in existence. Also, it was a rather inappropriate setting to have that particular epiphany. The awkward shifting had, mortifyingly, drawn Merlin close, hand on Arthur’s shoulder and whispering concerns into his ear. It did not help his situation at all.  
Since then, things had become a thousand times more complicated with feelings getting involved and when your thoughts are constantly consumed by your idiot manservant, coming up with solid excuses for daily stained bed sheets was much harder than you would imagine.

All in all, Arthur had to admit that this did have to stop. Or at least move on- either way. He just didn’t need to tell Morgana that.

Arthur steered Merlin through the doors of the great hall and the drafty corridors of the castle towards his chambers. This confession needed to be a very very private affair lest Merlin make a scene. And, really, Arthur didn’t want an audience when he was punched squarely in the jaw for his lewdness. Gods, how had he gotten himself into this mess? He was absolutely positive he wouldn’t react to Merlin’s inevitable attack upon his person, which when he thought about it, would be just as embarrassing as being very carefully rejected.  
“Whatever this is, it better be important” Merlin mumbled as he trailed as far behind as his wrist allowed. Arthur didn’t respond, only increased his pace making Merlin stumble a little. The man had no natural grace whatsoever.  
Finally, he pulled Merlin into his chambers and shut the door firmly, bracing his hand on the rough wood for a moment before taking a breath to calm himself (perhaps the courage had been a bad idea) and turning to face Merlin.  
“Sit down, Merlin” he said, gesturing to his favourite chair. If Merlin did go for the punch-first-freak-out-later route, Arthur would have time to brace himself if he had to stand first. It was practical. “I believe it’s time I made a confession.”  
Merlin’s brows rose in question (he had been having lessons from Gaius, Arthur could tell) but he sat saying nothing to encourage Arthur. And, really, would a quick “Me too- I love you! Let’s have sex.” have been too much to ask for? Apparently so. Onwards then.  
“You have been my servant for five years now” Arthur began slowly “and in that time, you have gone from bad to worse.” Merlin made a disgruntled sound and folded his arms- this was not going well “but, in that time you have also become somewhat of a friend to me” Merlin let his hands drop to the table “and I have come to trust your judgement about most aspects of my life, not all of them, I wouldn’t dream of trusting you when it comes to battle strategy or how to complete simple tasks because it’s quite clear that you are truly awful at both things” Merlin frowned “but, in matters of importance, when the Kingdom is under threat you are always the one to turn to when I need encouragement and surprisingly wise words. So, I wanted to thank you for that.”  
There was a pause in which Merlin’s eyes flitted around the room “Um. You’re welcome?”  
“I’m not finished.”  
“Right, of course not. I just thought with the whole stopping talking thing...”  
“Will you shut up?” Arthur bit out frustrated that he wasn’t getting his point across as well as he had hoped. He was sure the words were just supposed to flow rather than having to be hacked out of solid marble.  
“Shutting up. Go on.” Merlin made a sweeping gesture with his hand and settled further into Arthur’s chair. Arthur ignored the tingle shooting up his spine and pressed on.  
“In allowing myself to call you my friend, I let you into a part of my life that I confess I hadn’t thought missing before you came and- well- You saved my life and my father was right- you deserved a reward, but I feel like I was given that reward. Not right away of course- I used to imagine you being trampled by a horse at the beginning”  
“Thanks” Merlin mumbled dejectedly.  
“But then, you kept saving me. And you kept advising me. And you kept being a friend to me. And, well, I think I might have allowed that friendship to overcome me somewhat and those feelings of friendship have changed over the years. They’ve changed into... God’s this is difficult.”  
“Arthur, just tell me.” Merlin whispered leaning forwards almost all the way across the table, reaching for him with everything but his hands. Arthur had an urge to climb on the table and press Merlin back into his chair with his lips, but that was nothing new.  
“I- I think I have feelings for you, Merlin. Feelings that are more than friendship.” Merlin stared, blinked, then stared some more and Arthur couldn’t stand to look anymore. He turned to the window and wondered if throwing himself out of it would be overly dramatic.  
“Arthur” Merlin whispered a mere step away from Arthur- when did he move? “Look at me.”  
“I’d rather not; you’re not much to look at.”  
“I think we both know you don’t think that.” Oh, great. He hadn’t even thought of the ammunition he would be handing over for a lifetime of teasing and torment. This was going to be unbearable. Best nip it in the bud right away “Don’t flatter yourself, I said I had feelings for you, not that I fancied you.” He felt a rush of air hit the back of his neck as Merlin let out an amused breath before he took Arthur’s arm and turned him himself, impatient as always.  
“Make it quick.” Arthur murmured avoiding Merlin’s eyes “It’s late and I would like to go to bed.”  
“You’re rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Arthur snapped his focus to Merlin who was grinning very, very wide. Wider than when he was with Lancelot, Arthur thought with a thrill of victory. “These feelings” he continued “would they object to me kissing you right now?”  
Arthur shook his head so quickly he feared it would fall off and, really, wouldn’t that be his luck?  
“Good.” Merlin whispered, taking the step and closing the distance, pressing up against Arthur with a seductive smile “I wondered how long it’d take for you to tell me. All that staring wasn’t exactly subtle, Arthur-”  
“-What?”  
“But, you’re lucky; I have more than friendship feelings, too”  
It was at this point that Arthur’s brain combusted because Merlin was kissing him. Hard. And by the Gods why hadn’t they done this before? They were glorious at it.  
When Arthur was able to think clearly again, they had somehow made it to his bed, gotten half naked and promptly made each other come in their pants.

It had been a while, okay?


End file.
